


all the things she is (and all the things you aren't)

by BrokenHorizont



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Five Kisses Challenge, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, flowery language bc i can't write like a person, more like an afterthought, that's the closest to purely nice things i can write and i post this to prove a point, there's no plot really just mild references to events in game but like.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHorizont/pseuds/BrokenHorizont
Summary: she’s dawn after a long night; light soft and warm and promising. hopes of something better, of leaving behind the darkness. fighting the monsters that have come out within night.





	all the things she is (and all the things you aren't)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this like a year ago & reread it & still liked it so it goes here.  
> apparently five times kisses is all i upload since i can lift those directly from roleplay without context.

**i.**  
she’s fire. she’s a blazing sun, scouring everything she touches and leaving nothing behind. her flames lick over high and wide, drawing in, consuming. her light is blinding but everywhere; it’s impossible to look at anything but even if it means to be doomed forever.

she’s a storm, there one moment and gone another, only to come back and wreck havoc another time. she tears down what’s in her way and leaves nothing the way it was. her traces are left behind everywhere and it would be useless to try and rebuild because she’s still on the horizon, ready to come back and attack anew. she’s inescapable.

she’s a tsunami, rolling over and taking along what she can take. she nearly drowns only to resurface, giving a hint of breath and something other than this, before she waltzes in again and takes, and takes.

she’s dawn after a long night; light soft and warm and promising. hopes of something better, of leaving behind the darkness. fighting the monsters that have come out within night.

she’s a force of nature.

kissing her for the first time is like fighting a war he already knows he’s lost before he stepped on the battleground. she takes more than she gives, than anyone could give, but it’s just how he’d have it, and he gives her what he got, for he has known it was hers before she did. long before. she grabs his collar and pulls, and it’s like falling into her trap, finally locking the cage she built for his heart before she knew she was doing it.

she takes, and he gives.

**ii.**  
she’s darkness. where there had been light, there’s now shadows twirling, hiding away. she lures, beckons, in a way that isn’t her. she never comes too close; and the intent in her eyes is hidden away. chasing her seems like an endless task, and he tires, but it’s also impossible to stop. it’s impossible not to follow her closer, deeper, further down into the dark, the unknown.

she’s a drug, intoxicating, and it’s hard to quit. she gives just a little bit, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. it seeps into his veins and poisons them, turning the insides into something different, vile, aggressive. it burns from within, but it’s no longer in an enjoyable way. liquid acid sits in his veins and he has no way of getting rid of it.

when she’s there, she’s not. he tastes but smoke and mirrors, and when he wakes, he’s alone, as he has been since she’s left. knowing full well that she won’t return; not now, not ever. all that’s left is the image engraved into his mind, eating away at him.

she’s gone, but she still takes.

**interlude.**  
she’s new beginnings. she is there when she shouldn’t be and there are things missing — he knows scars that aren’t there, and imperfect skin that is smoothed out, and marks on her skin that aren’t there because they haven’t been obvious enough to be remembered by anyone but. she says she is still herself, but he doesn’t believe her.

later, he regrets. later, he wishes he’d have tried a little harder and chased after her again the way he did when she was gone. later, he wishes he could have taken for once.

they both don’t sleep that night.

**iii.**  
she is reality. better than the fantasies, and more tangible too. larger than life, and she feels more real than anything else, anyone else ever has. she shines in the brightest colors, she sings in sounds unheard before.  
she is spring, warm and blooming, long desired after the dread. she touches and new life forms. she lights up everything around her, causing it to aim further, higher, to become more than it was. she inspires, she promises, and everything follows.

she’s water in the desert. soft, cool, soothing, but also dangerous; easy to succumb to. she lures, and she helps, and sometimes, she strikes down, and hard so.

he apologizes, but not with words. she accepts, but not with words. they relearn, slowly, talking on for hours, and then they relearn in a different language, one they both know better, that feels less awkward and that’s so much quicker.

he takes on no ends, and she lets him.

**iv.**  
she is the end. of nothing, of everything; she falls mountains and drains oceans. she speaks, and a thousand suns go dark all at once. she lifts her hand and civilizations fall.

she is destiny, the one deciding over them all. one false step and everything has gone to waste; one false decision and they won’t have time left to regret it. she knows of it, but she likes it no more than they all do.

she’s insecure, and she comes to him to hide. she’s not the strength people want to see, not always, so he stays with her and lends her as much of his own as he can. she drains him dry and it’s not enough, but it will have to do.

it will have to, for this one is goodbye, no matter the outcome.

she takes until there’s nothing left to be taken, but it’s not enough. it’s not enough.

**v.**  
she is the future. the one he didn’t believe into ever being able to see, but she is there. she’s with him, always, has been even when she hasn’t. (she never truly left.) she is soft laughter and softer touches, she is hushed whispers and dancing through the morning. she is hiding away the nightmares and chasing the bad memories away. she is broken, bent, imperfect, but so is he — pieces made into a puzzle that fits just perfectly together.

she kisses him, and it’s like the first time, the fifth time, the seventeenth time. it’s all of them and none, for they all have been this one and none.

they are one. drawn to each other.

they drink in each other, and drown in one another, and it’s not enough, and just enough.

she takes, but she gives just as much; as he gives, and takes.

they are one.


End file.
